


block

by souldews



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 14:42:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2113812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/souldews/pseuds/souldews
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"and if by chance, that special place<br/>that you've been dreaming of<br/>leads you to a lonely place<br/>find your strength in love."</p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Yosuke plays the guitar and seeks comfort in songwriting, but sometimes, it just doesn't-- work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	block

_it's not working out._

he scribbles, angry, sharp, furious.  _it's not working out_.

picks up the paper, crumples it into a ball; channels all his anger into the throw, and it misses the bin and it's not the first one to miss, and  _why can't i even throw a paper ball in?_ he's not sure what he feels like comparing his self-esteem to right now: his ability (or lack thereof) to throw paper to the trash can, or to the contents of said trash can.

 _breathe,_ he murmurs to himself;  _breathe_ , and shaking fingers go for another fresh sheet of paper.  _let's try this again_ , he mutters under his breath, faint and tinged with annoyance, with patience that's wearing thin and anger bursting at the seams. he plucks a few more notes on the guitar, but it sounds so  _wrong_ and that note  _hurts his ears what the **fuck,** hanamura, you idiot. _he can feel actual  _pain_  in his eardrums because that was so  _lousy and even you know that, you useless piece of shit._

he'd probably have broken his guitar in half if what little reason left in him hadn't reminded him of the guitar's price.

he sets it down gingerly on the floor and now he just feels like an absolute failure, like he's completely worthless because come  _on_   _this is the one thing you're actually good at._

except right now, he's not feeling it and there's so much noise in his head, he can't tell what's going on because it's so so  _so_  noisy and he can't think, it's not clear and there's  _nothing_  he can hear and it's not  _there--_ what's not there, he's not sure, but the guitar and him are just not on the same wavelength today and he might just scream.

he's about to do that into his pillow when amidst all the static in his head, he picks up the click of a lock and the creak of a door and the  _taptaptap_ of someone's footsteps-- yu?

"you didn't lock your door."

the static clears a little. ah, that's right; yu said he would be coming over; he texted some time ago. or something.

he lifts his head slowly from the pillow, tries for a smile.

"hi." 

he winces at the sound of his own voice. god, he sounds like a dying frog.

and he can tell from yu's face that

  1. he'd totally failed that smile he was trying for and
  2. by the mess of his room alone, he knows that yu knows what's going on.



"it's messy."

the static lifts a little more. he chooses not to dignify that statement with an answer, shrugging instead and putting his head back on the pillow.

he feels rather than sees yu sit on the corner of his bed, feels the mattress dip and hears the bed frame squeak.

"you okay?"

_no._

"it's stupid." he says instead.

"it's not." yu counters. "it's important to you."

he feels a hand atop of his head, feels fingers card through his hair, feels them lift, rinse and repeat.

he feels warmth seep into the crevices inside him, displacing anger and exhaustion.

"sorry." he murmurs, when his mind is less clouded by anger and more by shame. god, he must look like such a child.

"i should be sorry." yu answers instead, "i don't know how to help you, or make that go away. i'm not a musician." he shrugs. "i like it when you play your guitar, though."

he's not sure if it's the words or if it's just  _yu_ , but his head's gone quiet and he can think again, fog dispelled and there's clarity now.

maybe both.

"play me something?" yu asks, then adds hastily, "if you feel like it."

for the first time that day, yosuke feels the tug on the corners of his lips.

"sure."

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this as a vent piece, honestly. I was having some of a writer's block myself. I guess I decided to publicly show this work today?  
> This was originally written 3 days ago, or something.
> 
> kudos and a little comment (maybe) if you liked it? c:


End file.
